


This Lullaby

by toons_rule



Series: We're the Three- Sorry, Six Caballeros! [4]
Category: DuckTales (Cartoon 2017), The Three Caballeros (1944)
Genre: But he won't admit it, Depression, Donald's not in a good place, Getting Help, Loss, Loss in the Family, M/M, Multi, Original Character - Freeform, talking it out
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-28
Updated: 2021-02-28
Packaged: 2021-03-12 15:21:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29761647
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/toons_rule/pseuds/toons_rule
Summary: He knew it was going to be a struggle. They all knew it was going to be a struggle. But raising Della's children, for some reason, makes Donald feel worse than before. And he wasn't sure how to make that feeling go away.
Relationships: José Carioca/Donald Duck/Panchito Pistoles
Series: We're the Three- Sorry, Six Caballeros! [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2112789
Comments: 12
Kudos: 44





	This Lullaby

**Author's Note:**

> Hey everybody!
> 
> Just like the previous entry to this, I have tagged depression on this installment as well. I think it's a bit more pronounced that in the previous story. So, just be warned, it's there.
> 
> And someday I'll make a happy story with these six. Someday...but not today.

If Della was there, Donald would want her to explain why she thought Jet, Turbo, and Rebel were good names to give children. I mean, really? Those were names you use for imaginary friends. This was a setup for the triplets to be bullied later in their lives. Seriously, what was she thinking?

But...Della wasn’t there. So, he had to just silently stew. Wondering what her thought process had been.  


~~ More than just her naming choices. ~~

Donald named the older triplet Hubert, or Huey, after a captain the older duck has served under. A tough but fair bulldog. Built like a wall and able to punch with the strength of a bulldozer. Or, that’s what the stories swapped between the cadets said. But the bulldog was more of a talker. Wanting to smooth things over any confrontations with words before the fists had to come out. A philosophy that Donald had hoped the older triplet would follow. 

Dewford, or Dewey, was given his name by Panchito. The rooster recalled his favorite childhood storybook that he’d read multiple times when the family became too loud. One that told of an adventurer who saves the world on a regular basis. The main character was brave, putting the needs of others before his own and making sure the innocent were kept safe. While it hit a little close to home for Donald, the duck couldn’t help but admit that the name seemed to fit the duckling perfectly.

José had taken a while in naming the youngest. A few days passed before he gave his choice to the other two. Llewellyn, or Louie, named after the parrot’s late grandfather. Shocking both the duck and rooster by the reveal as they’d never heard of this parrot before. José was known to not get along well with his family. He explains, while cradling the green bundled form closer, that his grandfather was the only person José had connected with. The elder parrot had passed when José was only four. Far too soon.

The other two pressed closer after the reveal. Saying that Louie was a perfect name. A wonderful way to remember a good soul.

It was hard getting into a new routine. When the triplets were still eggs, all that was needed was to keep them warm and keep them on a stable surface. Now it was about keeping the triplets entertained. Fed. Cleaned. Making sure they get enough sleep. Deciding if pre-school was a better place to start schooling then kindergarten. When would be the best time for them to start socializing? 

“Why is it so hard to find a three seated stroller that can break apart into separate single ones? Do I really have to design my own?” Donald grumbled as he scrolled through the shopping page. 

Panchito looked over from his spot on the couch with a raised brow. “Why would we need that? We can just take them on a walk together, all in single strollers.” 

“What if José’s not here.”

“Um, a duo stroller with a single one?” 

“What if you’re both not home and I need to get out of the house with the kids?”

“...We’ll keep looking.”

The duck couldn’t say this enough times about how thankful he was that Panchito and José were there to help. Trying to balance all of this and worry about keeping a stable job? He would have started molting long before the eggs had hatched. 

~~ How would Della have handled this? ~~

While the other two took care of finances, Donald focused his energy and attention on the home front. Even then, caring for the house and the triplets was a...struggle. He wasn’t sure how to raise kids. His own childhood was filled with being dropped off at a new family member’s house every other weekend. Or on dangerous adventures in which he should have and almost did die. Only surviving on sheer dumb luck. 

Luck, from him, could you imagine? 

~~ Della’s luck didn’t last forever.  ~~

The triplets were exploratory the moment they learned how to crawl. If Donald had his back turned for even a second, they would scatter. Thankfully, due to the older duck’s prep work, they couldn’t get into the many places. But that didn’t mean the triplets couldn’t find new areas to help give their uncle a heart attack. Like when Dewey somehow found his way onto the  **_top of the refrigerator_ ** . 

How? How was that even possible? Donald was feeling absolutely exhausted…

“Do you need me to take some time off? I am sure I can convince my company to give me a few days home to help with the boys and let you sleep.” José offered.

“No no. I’m sure they're still upset since you left so suddenly before, then decided to change location, and then ask for more time off only a few months later? No, you don’t need to worry about that. I don’t want to get you in trouble.” 

“I could ask for time off.” Panchito voiced.

“You just started working. Guy, I’m serious when I say I’m fine. The triplets are just a bit of a handful. I got this.”

It wasn’t a necessary lie. But it wasn’t fully true either. Just like when the other two asked if he was okay when they first arrived. Donald knew he was in an unstable state at this moment. He was emotionally and mentally exhausted. Everyday it was an internal battle of wanting his family back and never wanting to experience that kind of pain again. He was still angry with Scrooge and Gyro with how they handled the entire situation. Still hurt that Gladstone was so indifferent or angry without truly being involved. Donald would have reached out to Fethry, but he knew how much of a blabbermouth his cousin was. And he didn’t want Scrooge to know anything about his life. 

What was most painful was how torn he was feeling about Della. Donald was furious that she just left. That she would just abandon her eggs, and so easily too. For Donald, it was a declaration that she didn’t want to be responsible. It was just something she wanted someone else to take care of them. How was he supposed to explain this to the triplets when they started asking what happened to their mother? 

The turmoil that Donald felt was the idea that...could he really be mad at her? She was gone. Her choice was paid with the ultimate price. So could he hold a grudge with someone who wasn’t there? Who was never going to be there. He wanted to. But he knew it would just drive him further into an unkempt state. Holding a grudge against someone he would never see again. There would be anger burning in him that would never be able to be released. 

As if Donald didn’t have enough issues with his anger. 

Donald was brought out of his thoughts hearing gentle coos. Eyes traveling over to the standing playpen. The triplets were starting to try and stand. Dewey showed off his skills as he clung to the pen’s wall netting. His brother’s were more interested in the surrounding toys. But the blue dressed triplet was focused on his fractured uncle. 

Letting out a small sigh, Donald lifted Dewey up, sitting down by the playpen.

“You should be with your mother… She should be here, raising you three… All of this...it’s all so unfair…” He pulled Dewey closer, cradling the small head with his hand and it was pressed against his chest. 

Donald was tired. He was scared. He didn’t know what he was doing. He wondered why Panchito and José would stick around. They were supposed to be living their life in vibrant cities that matched their personalities. Not stuck here. Dealing with the absolute mess that was Donald and his life and his famiy. It was a battle between knowing he needed the help and not wanting to be a burden.

A small pat to his chest brought attention back to the triplet laying on his chest. Dewey letting out a small whimper. As if he was aware of how upset his uncle was. 

Donald gave a gentle smile to the duckling. He cautiously stood, collecting the other two, and laid them out on the blanket that had been placed on the floor. Donald laid himself down on his stomach. Laughing softly as the triplets began crawling closer. Babbling as they clung to feathers and attempted to climb onto their uncle. 

A misstep from Huey caused him to take a tumble, landing on his back. Small sobs bubbling up as his legs kicked desperately. In response, Donald reached out, cradling the red cladded triplet’s head in his hand while the other rested on the stomach. Huey turned to face his uncle. Unshed tears at the corners of his eyes were gently wiped away. 

“Look to the stars my darling baby boys…”

Huey’s eyes lit up, falling completely still as he focused on Donald. Dewey and Louie rolled off their uncle. Instead propping themselves up on Donald’s arms, starting at him as well. Their eyes wide with curiosity. 

Now that he had full attention by his audience, Donald started again.

_ Look to the stars my darling baby boys, _

_ Life is strange and vast, _

_ Filled with wondrous and joys, _

_ Face each new sun with eyes clear and true, _

_ Unafraid of the unknown, _

_ Because I’ll face it all with you. _

He was crying before he finished. No sobbing or cracking voice, just tears. The triplets had calmed down and were starting to drift off. Unaware of their uncle finally reaching his breaking point.  Donald didn’t flinch when José and Panchito suddenly appeared. Each laying on either side of the duck, whose eyes were still trained on the triplets. 

“I don’t think I know that song.” Panchito whispered.

“Della wrote it,” Donald replied, “She’d sing it to them every night… When they were still eggs and she was...you know...still here.”

“It was beautiful. We shall need to sing it more.” José suggested, pressing closer. 

Donald didn’t reply right away. Focusing on the warmth seeping in from the bodies pressed against him. “I think there’s something wrong with me. I’m...angry. Not just angry, I can’t focus. I don’t know what I’m really angry about. I think. I just know that I am. I’m so...exhausted.” 

The parrot hummed. Reaching up to preen at the exposed white feathers. “I think...you have had a lot of things being thrown at you. Very quickly. Without a way to fully...understand how to deal with it. Like me.”

“Like you?”

“Very much like me. I believe it would benefit you if you saw someone. It has helped me.”

“...When have you started seeing a therapist?”

“A few years now. Panchito convinced me to do so.”

“I can try and convince you as well.” The rooster added with a smile.

Donald gave a soft laugh. “No...I’ll go… I think I need to go. I know I need it… I’m sorry.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for. We understand, we are just here to help.” José whispered, Panchito nodded softly as he laid his head on the duck’s shoulder.

Donald let out a shaky breath, eyes closing as he sank into the warmth surrounding him. 

“It will be okay. We are here for you and it will be okay…”

_____________________

Donald let out a slow breath, scrunching himself further down into the cushioned chair. The triplets were babbling happily resting in their three seated stroller. All being entertained by Panchito while José focused on the older duck. The waiting room for the therapy office was small, with only a few cushioned chairs, a fake plant pushed into the corner, with a magazine rack hanging on the wall. The reception desk was situated across from the entrance with a large window resting across from where the six of them were resting. 

Donald was realizing how cold this office was.

“You will be fine. Dr. Bessing is amazing. I have only been with her for a few months, but I trust her.” José said as he took Donald’s hand gently. 

“What if I don’t like her?” The duck questioned quietly.

“Then we find someone else. And we will keep doing this until we find someone you do trust. It will be fine,” José smiled softly, “Do you trust me?”

“Yeah, of course.”

“Then trust me when I say you will be cared for.”

Whatever bravado Donald had started to build was instantly broken when the nearby door opened. A robin with short brown hair and casually dressed entered, carrying a clipboard. She smiled over at the six of them. Giving a small coo seeing the triplets before her full attention went to Donald. “Mr. Donald Duck?”

José gave a gentle nudge, giving an encouraging smile as Donald slowly stood. He was led to where the back offices were. Entering one of the rather small rooms, the large window showing the garden behind the building being the first thing Donald noticed. It was sunny outside, the light hitting the garden path perfection. It looked like it came from a photograph.  


The office itself was small, but rather cozy. Warm and inviting. Even with the numerous medical items seen around the room. A desk was pushed against the wall that was across from the window, framed with paperwork and books, a closed laptop resting in the center, and a leather, armed chair placed before it. Numerous diplomas were hanging on the wall above said desk. A cushioned chair was facing the desk, with a small end table nearby that was covered with numerous children’s toys. A large bookshelf was placed by the window and was filled with a number of thick volumes. Donald couldn’t really read all the titles. But from what he’d been able to see, they all held something about psychology. 

“Go ahead and take a seat.” Dr. Bessing smiled as she took the seat by the desk. Donald let out a shaky sigh as he did as was suggested. “So, how are you feeling today? I know therapy can be a little overwhelming for the first time.”

“Um...yeah, I am a little nervous.” 

“Completely understandable. You’re not used to opening up to complete strangers and now you're suddenly supposed to change your whole outlook? In one hour? It’s a weird feeling. But I am here to assure you that you have nothing to worry about. This is a safe space and nothing will be shared with anyone unless it’s on your say so.” 

“Okay… Um, did José tell you...anything? I-I know you’re seeing him. Am I allowed to know that? I’m not breaking any rules am I?”

“No, you’re all good. José is allowed to share who he sees and what we talk about if he wants. The clients are in control as to what’s shared with other members of the family and friends. As far as him telling me anything, he just informed me you’re having a bit of a family issue. Nothing more. I want you to tell me what’s happening in your life. Even if he’s your husband, he can’t speak for your experiences directly. And, I will say this again, nothing leaves this room unless you want to share it. Either here or at home. It’s about making you feel safe.”

“Okay… I… Where do I...how do I start this?”

“Why don’t you just start with what brought you in today. What has happened currently that would make you feel that you need to see someone.” 

Donald nodded, rubbing his hands together. “...Sorry, I really don’t know what I’m supposed to say.”

“That’s fine. First session is an open book, you just talk with whatever comes to mind, and it sounds like there’s a lot to tell. Just take a few minutes, try and get everything in order, and start when you feel ready.”

Taking a few deep breaths, Donald allowed himself a few minutes. Eyes traveling to the garden as he tried to find the right words to start with. A small smile formed seeing numerous daffodils growing proudly among the green.

Della’s favorite flower... 

He gave another nod and started.

**Author's Note:**

> Just a heads up, at this date (02/28/2021) this will be the last installment for awhile. This series isn't done. But I have other stories in the making and I need time to work in the next 4 installments for this.


End file.
